


something you can't see that i can't hide

by fridaygrimm



Series: some kind of clear unspoken chemistry [2]
Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: M/M, Pining, kind of, they're bad at pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 10:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11311965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fridaygrimm/pseuds/fridaygrimm
Summary: after the wedding they go home





	something you can't see that i can't hide

**Author's Note:**

> I did not intend for this to happen. It started out as a simple story about insomnia sex. Ironically it kept me from sleeping.
> 
> This is very definitely fiction, please do not bring it to the attention of anyone outside this small and lovely fandom.

The flight back to LA is a nightmare. They’re both exhausted and hungover, too out of it to be bothered talking. Which doesn’t stop gnawing anxiety from taking residence under Lovett’s skin. He plays with his phone, flipping restlessly between songs and the Texture app and approximately a million open tabs before finally giving in and paying for wifi so he can drown himself in the endless toxicity of twitter. It doesn’t work so well, but at least he can pretend the endless litany of what next what now what why is about something external.

When they land Tommy follows him into his Lyft and they both end up back at Lovett’s place without having to have a conversation about it. They’re not doing the pod in the morning by unanimous agreement so Lovett sends Tommy in to shower first and occupies himself ordering food and adoring Pundit until Tommy reappears. Then he goes and stands under the hot water until his skin’s flushed red and some of the tension is gone out of his shoulders and he can breathe again.

When he comes back out in his straight shooter shirt and a pair of boxers he finds Tommy on the couch, already digging into pizza, with Pundit on his lap and the news on the television.

‘Make yourself at home,’ he says caustically, taking his own slice of pizza and bypassing the plates Tommy must have dug out when the food arrived. 

Tommy swallows his mouthful as Lovett flops onto the couch, says ‘okay’ before leaning over to kiss him, just once, all soft and sweet. Then he settles back against the couch, leaving Lovett with his mouth slightly open and a weird sense of vertigo.

Against his better judgement the world settles on its axis when Tommy slings an arm around his shoulders. Once they’ve demolished the pizza and fed the last of their crusts to Pundit they evict her from the couch and she falls asleep on their feet. She only grumbles a little when Lovett pulls his feet up under him. Tommy tucks him against his side and Lovett drifts mindlessly to the sound of the endless news cycle and the steady rise and fall of Tommy’s chest.

 

He wakes up with a start when something explodes on the television, where the news has given way to something action-based and presumably terrible. He reaches over to switch it off before he can identify the show, plunging the room into shadows. He’s mostly on top of Tommy given that they’re both horizontal and the couch isn’t really wide enough to accommodate them. He props his chin on Tommy’s collarbone, watching him unabashedly now that he’s asleep. Like he can feel it and wants to continue to ruin Lovett’s life Tommy stirs under his regard.

‘Jon?’ he mumbles, arms coming up around Lovett.

‘Here,’ he says. ‘Sleeping beauty.’

‘You fell asleep first,’ Tommy grumbles, words all slurring together. Lovett bites his lip to keep from smiling at the way Tommy’s face twists as he tries to drag himself back up to consciousness. Before he can think about it he’s pushed himself up to kiss him, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch behind Tommy’s head.

Tommy makes a little pleased sound and Lovett feels eyelashes flutter against his cheek. He pulls back just a little, just enough to see that Tommy’s eyes are open. Then Tommy leans up and they’re kissing again. Tommy’s hands slide down his back and under the hem of his shirt, one thumb pressing into the dip of his spine while the other palms his ass, urging him down closer against Tommy, who’s hard in his sweatpants and grinding up against him.

‘Fuck,’ Lovett groans, ceding control of the press of their hips to Tommy in favour of keeping control of the kiss, one hand still braced beside Tommy’s head, the other sneaking up to his jaw where he can feel the faintest hint of stubble and the thunder of Tommy’s pulse.

‘Lovett,’ Tommy bites out, the second he pulls back, so breathless and desperate.

‘Yeah,’ he says, not sure it it’s a question or agreement as Tommy presses his head to Lovett’s neck, temple to jaw, hot breath shuddering over his collarbone. His hand slides into Tommy’s hair, disarrayed from the shower and the nap. His breath catches when Tommy bites him, sudden and sharp enough to send him over the edge in a rush of surprise, feels Tommy buck and still against him a moment later.

They lie in a sweaty tangle of limbs for long moments, catching their breath. When Lovett finally finds the strength to push himself up Tommy is grinning at him, eyes bright and half his face invisible in the falling darkness. He’s lovely and Lovett catches his breath all over again. He moves to stand, get up, get away. Tommy catches his wrist, swinging himself up to sit as well and tugging Lovett back down for another kiss, lingering. When he pulls away Tommy is searching his face for something.

Lovett lingers as long as he can under that scrutiny before stepping back. Just as Tommy’s grip on his wrist breaks he twists his hand to catch Tommy’s fingers in his own.

‘Coming?’ he asks, as he leans towards the bathroom. Tommy’s smile is blinding and Lovett’s heart turns over.

 

It upsets Tommy when his insomnia keeps Lovett awake and a sleep-deprived, upset Tommy is worse than a regular sleep-deprived Tommy. There is evidence and it’s definitely not the pathetic little crease he gets between his eyebrows tugging at Lovett’s heartstrings.

The evidence is why he doesn’t say anything when he hears Tommy give up on sleeping. He keeps his breathing even and soft when the light from Tommy’s phone changes the tone of the darkness behind his eyelids. He doesn’t twitch when his back starts to cramp. It’s only when he realises he’s not getting any closer to sleep either that he rolls over onto his back with a sigh.

‘This isn’t working,’ he says to the shadowy ceiling.

‘Fuck,’ Tommy’s voice is soft, even though there’s literally no one in the house except for them. They’re the only ones to disturb and they’re already disturbed. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll go hang out on the couch.’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Lovett tells him at a normal volume. He shifts his gaze over and finds Tommy looking at him all sad and defeated. It makes his heart hurt and he heaves a huge sigh at the inconvenience of it all.

‘Tommy Vietor, what am I going to do with you?’ Tommy gives him a wan smile and Lovett groans again. ‘You want to watch something?’ he asks, propping his head on his hand.

‘Screens in bed train your brain out of sleep,’ Tommy says automatically, face pale in the blue glow from his phone. Lovett looks at it then back to him. ‘Shut up.’

‘You want me to blow you?’ Lovett asks, easy as can be, like it doesn’t make something catch in his chest to have Tommy in his bed again. A notably silent Tommy. Lovett looks up at him, raising his eyebrows. ‘Like that time you’d been in your office for three days and Favs had to physically remove you from the building and bring you home?’ his voice has gotten softer, almost a match for Tommy’s. ‘But you couldn’t sleep.’ 

It all comes out in a rush. They still haven’t really talked about any of this. Tommy doesn’t comment, just nods hesitantly. Lovett swallows. “So I blew you on the couch and you passed out like an ungrateful lout.’ Tommy frowns, opens his mouth like he wants to object, Lovett steamrolls over him. ‘I could do that again.’ Tommy shuts his mouth then nods slowly again. Lovett smiles slyly up at him to cover the way his heart is beating. ‘Wow, no protests or glass of warm milk or anything? Straight to sex?’

‘Lovett-’ Tommy starts, frustration breaking through. Lovett grins, rolling over to press a kiss to Tommy’s hip where his shirt’s riding up.

‘I like it,’ he says against the skin. It comes out sincere and he has to take a moment to compose himself, only looks up when Tommy’s hand lands feather light in his hair. ‘Let me be your personal sandman,’ he says, leering a little. Tommy’s lips twitch up in response and some of the pinched expression has eased. He nods more firmly and puts his phone face down on the bedside table with a decisive click. The warmth blooms again in Lovett’s chest and he quickly covers it, sitting up to haul Tommy’s sweats off and settle between his thighs.

Tommy’s halfway hard already and Lovett smirks up at him, starts to say ‘well look at-’ gets Tommy’s hand tugging his hair in warning. He swallows a moan and turns his attention back to Tommy’s dick. He’s nothing if not a show off, except maybe good with his mouth, and so he opens his mouth, slides down slowly with Tommy’s hand gentling to cup the back of his head lightly.

The catch in Tommy’s breath says it’s good as he falls in an easy rhythm he’s never quite forgotten. But after a minute he can still feel the tension holding Tommy still so he pulls off and looks up at him.

‘I want to try something,’ he says, waits for Tommy’s nod before crawling half across him to grab the lube. Tommy watches him, lips slightly parted, as he slicks one finger before tossing the uncapped tube aside. Tommy’s about to say something about to say something about the parachute sheets, he can feel it coming, so he forestalls the complaint by ducking back down to wrap his lips around the head of Tommy’s dick again. When what he gets is a moan instead of a reprimand he settles in, pressing Tommy’s thighs further apart with his shoulders and bringing his free hand up to stroke lightly back between Tommy’s legs then press just the tip of his finger in.

It’s not something they’ve done much, Lovett knows when to stop to avoid freaking out his ostensibly straight best friend. But sometimes, after a bad day, or on a bad night, he’d go down on Tommy like this. Sliding a finger into him inch by inch, then two. And then on his last night in DC Tommy had asked for more.

It’s hard to shake the image of Tommy getting fucked out of his head. The way his face flushed, colour spilling down onto his chest. The way his eyes slid in and out of focus as he gripped Lovett’s arms (leaving bruises he couldn’t stop touching as he drove across the country) and panted ‘Jon, Jon,’ like he’d forgotten how to say anything else. 

Now he’s got his hand fisted in Lovett’s hair, not quite controlling but guiding, as his other hand tangles briefly with the one Lovett’s using to hold his dick steady. 

Lovett lets Tommy take over there, reaches down to adjust himself in his shorts then figures fuck it

He bypasses the quick draw fly in favour of shoving his hand past the waistband to jack himself in time with Tommy’s abortive little thrusts. The feedback loop is good and he doesn’t bother to try and disguise a moan.

‘Fuck, Jon,’ Tommy says above him and Lovett glances up as he slides a second finger in beside the first, pressing more insistently. Tommy meets his gaze and for a second Lovett feels like his heart’s going to beat right out of his chest. Then Tommy’s eyes snap shut and he gasps as he comes, fingers trembling in Lovett’s hair. 

He swallows, letting his own eyes fall shut and listening to the harsh edge of Tommy’s breathing as he manages another three strokes before he comes.

‘Jon,’ Tommy mumbles, fingers petting his stinging scalp now. Lovett pulls away from him, ducks into the bathroom to chuck his shorts into the washing and clean up.

By the time he gets back Tommy is curled up, facing the door with his eyes just barely open. He holds up an arm and Lovett slides back into bed without bothering with clean shorts. Tommy tucks himself against Lovett, forehead pressed to his neck.

‘Thanks.’ The words are barely there and Lovett presses a kiss to Tommy’s hair, closing his eyes.

‘Anytime.’


End file.
